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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661229">Recreation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza'>emmaliza</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blake's 7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Porn, Coitus Interruptus, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mistaken For Rape, Past Brainwashing, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Series A, Sexuality</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:28:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaliza/pseuds/emmaliza</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake allows his crew planet leave for a little R&amp;R. He meets a man in a bar, and Avon gets rather the wrong idea.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Implied B/A, Kerr Avon &amp; Roj Blake, Roj Blake/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Recreation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reasonably, he could only have been expected to hold out against Vila's demands for a holiday for so long, thinks Blake as he sips his strange, foreign ale in the dingy confines of an alien bar. The others, for the most part only involved with his cause as a matter of circumstance, don't want it to absorb their lives the way it has his, and even Cally, who's only been aboard a matter of weeks has started to have words with him about the importance of maintaining their physical and mental health. <em>A little late in my case,</em> he thinks ruefully. He knows she's right, and so he's pleased the others all seem to have disappeared to have fun – he hopes Vila isn't scamming anyone out of their life savings, he did talk to him about that.</p>
<p>In theory, Blake should be doing the same thing. But it's a little difficult to know how to enjoy one's self when your memories of having done so have gone. A lot of what they took from him has come back, but nothing trivial. It's a rather hollow way to live.</p>
<p>“Hey there. Are you alone here tonight?”</p>
<p>Blake blinks in surprise, realising someone is talking to him. Instinctively his hand moves to his gun, before he remembers there's no reason to think a stranger in a bar is automatically a threat. Clearly, Avon is a bad influence.</p>
<p>The man is handsome, tall and slim with auburn curls falling just south of his ear and deep green eyes that remind Blake of a pre-Atomic nature scene. Clearly, he could have anyone in the room if he wanted, so what is he doing here? “Ah, my friends are around here somewhere,” he explains casually – 'friends' might be a bit of an exaggeration at this point, but anything else would seem suspicious. He looks around. “Although I'm not sure where. I hope they haven't gotten in trouble.” This planet is far outside the Federation's sights, that's the only reason Blake agreed to come here, but you never know.</p>
<p>Green eyes sparkling, this man clearly doesn't share any of Blake's worries. “So, they won't miss you then?”</p>
<p><em>He wants me. </em>The situation catches Blake off guard. Back on earth, with its cameras on every wall and rigorously outlined offenses for 'depravity', men would never be so blatant about displaying an interest in one another – everything has to be done in secret, outside the purview of the electronic eye, with the threat of being caught always lapping at one's heels.</p>
<p>Apparently, Blake knows that. Somehow.</p>
<p>“Listen, I'm very flattered, but I'm not–” Is he? He hasn't a clue, his mind is so muddled. If he were interested in women, he would remember some of them, wouldn't he?</p>
<p>The man's hand lands on his inner thigh, tracing delicate patterns – a piano player, Blake would wager. There are dozens of reasons this is a terrible idea, but being touched like that, Blake wants, in the most literal sense – he is <em>lacking</em>, he knows that.</p>
<p>“–I can't leave,” he explains, keeping a tenuous grip on reality. Even if the others manage not to get in trouble, spending the night with a man he just met would still raise questions he doesn't want to answer. “Sorry.”</p>
<p>The man thinks this over, nodding slowly. “That's alright,” he says, but rather than give him, he squeezes Blake's thigh surely. “There's an alleyway outside, if you don't mind–”</p>
<p>Blake gasps shallowly, hit by a wave of something warm, lust or nostalgia, it's hard to say. “No,” he says, and this is still a very bad idea but– “I don't mind at all.”</p><hr/>
<p>It's not a romantic location for a first time, but Blake assumes this isn't his first time, even if he doesn't remember what was. Old-fashioned clay bricks grind against his skin as this stranger pushes him up against the wall, kisses him roughly, all tongue and teeth, until Blake can feel his lips bruise under the onslaught. It's for the best they're doing this quickly. Standing up he realises that, while this man is tall, he's not quite as tall as Blake himself. When they pull apart for air Blake looks up to the dull electric lights above, while the man nuzzles his neck and fondles his prick through his trousers.</p>
<p>“Oh, I knew you'd be big down there.” Blake moans softly as his cock stiffens against practised fingers. That is, at least, a reason for such a handsome man to be interested in him that doesn't raise his suspicions. So long as he believes it. “Do you want to put that inside me, stud? Or do you want me to take you up against the wall?”</p>
<p><em>How on Earth do I know?</em> he wonders, but this man doesn't wait for an answer, dropping to his knees on the cold, rough asphalt in front of him. Blake shudders as he hears his buttons pop open, one after another. Maybe this is stupid and maybe this is beneath him, but it feels familiar, there is something warm and comforting in it when this stranger opens his mouth and swallows–</p>
<p>He gasps, shallowly rocking his hips toward the suction, not wanting to push too far and make things messy. Slowly his hands find an anchor in the man's hair, holding on as he's sucked off with professional vigour. Pleasure comes to his body in strange waves and starts, the sense of having been denied it for too long, and not really remembering how to take it.</p>
<p>Hands crawl all over his body, seizing him up – for sex, he hopes, not battle. He has his cock in this man's mouth but that doesn't mean he trusts him. Still, when he feels gentle fingers push along the cleft of his arse, he arches toward them – he feels sore, stressed and old, but some ghost of a memory returns to him and takes him over: “Please, fuck me.”</p>
<p>“Mm.” The stranger doesn't sound at all displeased being on his knees with Blake's cock down his throat, but still he quickly rights himself, grasping Blake by the hips to turn him around. “Whatever you say, love.” The sense of being pushed and prodded into position also stirs memories, considerably less pleasant ones, but Blake forces those away ruthlessly.</p>
<p>Fortunately, his stranger thought to bring lubrication to ease the way; presumably he had a much better idea of what he was coming here for than Blake did. He shivers against the cool night air as he feels his entrance slickened, pressed and probed. As he digs his nails in against the rough brick wall grains of sand lodge under his fingernails.</p>
<p>It <em>hurts</em> when the man pushes inside him, and Blakes lets out a short, sharp cry of pain before he forces himself back under control. After all, he's been through much worse. He breathes steadily and stays deathly still as his stranger sheathes himself, thumb circling a spot on Blake's hipbone soothingly. “Easy, easy,” he whispers, kissing the nape of Blake's neck. “It has been awhile, huh?” Blake is tempted to laugh hysterically. That's one way to put it. “Don't worry, I'll be gentle with you.”</p>
<p>Pain and pleasure and something he can't quite name, an odd sense of dislocation, do battle as this man whose name he doesn't know starts to thrust inside him. As Blake scrambles against the wall he feels like he's looking for something. Some memory, ripped out of him and smothered under lies and treachery, but he might just have it fucked out of him if he can just hold on–</p>
<p>He moans, low and needy, as the thrusts come harder and quicker, forming a proper rhythm, too fast to give him time to think about how it hurts. He melts into the wall a little, leaning his cheek against the wall and popping his arse out further, absurd and pornographic, but relaxing enough not to worry about such things. “Oh, that's it,” the man kisses his shoulder, hand moving around to play with his cock, thumbnail teasing the slit. “You like that, huh?”</p>
<p><em>It seems so.</em> Blake makes a noise, and is surprised to find another hand covering his mouth. He panics for only a second. “Shh,” the man whispers in his ear. “The landlord is a friend of mine, I don't want her to have to forbid me from the premises.”</p>
<p>Blake nods along, strung out enough on arousal and nostalgia to take this man's word for it. He groans and sighs into strange flesh as the man starts to fuck him harder, starts to take him somewhere deliberate, somewhere he must have been before but can't quite remember the directions. He is holding on, again, bracing himself for pleasure as it makes him sway and stagger, this should be easy, this should be good, this should make him hold on until–</p>
<p>He hears a click.</p>
<p>“I suggest, whatever you think you're doing, you stop now.”</p>
<p>Blake freezes as a third voice cuts through the air, cold and crisp to stop everything in its wake. <em>Avon.</em> The man inside him whimpers, erection immediately faltering and slipping out to leave a slimy trail, and Blake can just about turn his head enough to see Avon's gun jutting into the small of the poor man's back. “I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know he was–”</p>
<p>“Don't.”</p>
<p>Blake hears the gun click again and, red with humiliation as he is, he knows he has to do something if he doesn't want to see this man die for the reprehensible crime of finding him fuckable. “Avon, let him go.”</p>
<p>Avon raises his eyebrows in surprise, but nonetheless he lifts his gun, jerking his head to the side – the man scrambles away in a hurry, pulling up his trousers and fastening his fly as he goes. Avon's jaw clenches in fury.</p>
<p>Blake returns to facing the wall, trying to force himself to think. <em>What the hell did you do that for?</em> he wants to ask, but such a question would probably carry more gravitas if he said it with his clothes on. While he is reaching down to pull his own trousers back up, Avon comments flatly over his shoulder: “Are you alright?”</p>
<p>He turns back around. Avon, while his voice doesn't give anything away, wears an expression Blake doesn't think he's seen on him before. One rather like sympathy.</p>
<p>With dawning horror Blake realises what Avon must think he just walked in on, why he chose to intervene when he did. His face burns redder. “Yes, Avon, I'm fine,” he snaps, before realising that's not going to be very convincing. A terrible part of him wonders whether he's not better off indulging Avon's delusion, playing the victim, but no, that is beneath him. He sighs. “It's not what you think. He didn't – <em>force</em> me into anything.”</p>
<p>A pause. Blake swears he can see all the colour drain out of Avon's face. “...I see.”</p>
<p>He didn't know it was possible for Avon's voice to become more icy, and yet. Of course Avon is too clever not to think it through logically: if Blake wasn't forced it must mean he wanted it, that he let some stranger fuck him in a sleazy alleyway outside an alien pub. <em>To hell with him, I don't need his approval,</em> Blake tells himself (after all, Avon never approves of anything), and yet the contempt in his voice hits him like a bucket of cold water, thoroughly killing his arousal.</p>
<p>And then Avon carries on, as if none of this meant anything. “In any case, I just came to tell you I was returning to the ship. I'm afraid this planet is singularly dull.”</p>
<p>Still catching his breath, Blake nods, willing to pretend nothing happened if Avon is. “Alright. Is there a reason you needed to come find me to tell me that?” <em>And interrupt me while I was having a good time?</em></p>
<p>Avon seems amused. Is Blake going mad, or does he hesitate? “I wouldn't want you to get yourself in trouble because you thought you had mislaid one of your ragtag crew. Although...” he smirks as he lifts the communicator to his mouth to request teleport. “Perhaps it wasn't necessary. I doubt you would have noticed.”</p><hr/>
<p>After his abortive sexual encounter, there's little reason for Blake to stick around either, so he teleports back on to Liberator not long after Avon.</p>
<p>Of course, he may not have thought that through, as with Gan reliably staying on teleport duty that leaves him and Avon hovering about on another on the flight deck, as Avon has apparently found some essential computer task he must do that means he cannot just go to bed and spare them the trouble. Yes, Blake could just go to bed himself, but he doesn't want to be a coward and he doesn't want Avon to think he's ashamed of himself – he's done nothing wrong.</p>
<p>Thankfully, it's Avon who breaks the silence. “I hope you realise, that man could have been anyone,” he says without feeling. “A Federation spy, meant to bring you to justice.”</p>
<p>Blake sighs deeply. Well, he can hardly fault Avon for picking up on the risks he was all too aware of. “Yes, I know,” he says. “Hence why I avoided telling him anything that may identify me – not even my name.”</p>
<p>He tries to gauge Avon's reaction, to be greeted with a studiously blank face. “You slept with a man without even telling him your name?”</p>
<p>“Do you disapprove?” Blake frowns. He wouldn't think Avon the type to have sentimental hangups about the link between sex and romance, but then again, he doesn't know he has the faintest idea how Avon thinks at all.</p>
<p>Avon smiles at him, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “Of course not,” he says. “But I will admit, it seems curious, that you would trust a complete stranger with your body and not someone who has earned it.”</p>
<p>Blake can't help but laugh. “It's not a matter of trust, Avon, just–” what, exactly? He doesn't know. He doesn't know what he wants, that's the problem, he's had it cruelly ripped away from him, and so he has to fumble for any glimmer of what once came naturally. How can he explain that? “–Well. I haven't seen any men lining up to fuck me around here, have you?”</p>
<p>Blinking, Avon gets to his feet. But he doesn't say a word, instead he just heads for the doorway. Blake sighs, afraid he's gotten this all wrong. “Thank you, by the way.”</p>
<p>Avon stops. “What for?”</p>
<p>“Rescuing me, when you thought I was being raped.”</p>
<p>Avon raises his brows, but he refuses to react, even when Blake drops that painfully emotive word into the conversation. “Do you think I did that for you?”</p>
<p>Blake shrugs. “Either that, or you have too much conscience to see that happen to anyone and not intervene,” he says. “In any case, it presents you in a better light than I think you want me to see you.”</p>
<p>With a scowl, Avon turns on his leather-clad heel and stalks out, not deigning to give him an answer. Blake nurses his brow, half-fucked and half-aware, and deeply, deeply frustrated.</p>
<p>Perfect. Not only does he have no idea what he wants, he has no idea what Avon wants either.</p>
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